


You Burned My Heart

by imsosrsly



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Break Up, Heartbreak, I'm so sorry Tooru, Loss, M/M, Minor Character(s), Suicide, Tragedy, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension, the iwaoi is one-sided, this fic has no silver lining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 04:06:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5319827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imsosrsly/pseuds/imsosrsly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He finally took several tentative steps towards the man lingering in the doorway. Because he still hadn’t left yet. That was a good sign; if Tooru could keep him here long enough… </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Burned My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a happy story. The angst is extremely heavy because I was in a dark place when I wrote it last summer. 
> 
> Please carefully look over my tags and read at your own risk.

**حرقتقلبي** **– Arab saying**

**_You burned my heart._ **

The feeling you get when someone you love is in pain and you can’t help or can’t do enough.  
The feeling is like someone is literally holding your heart to a set of flames. (via [kalam-thageel](http://kalam-thageel.tumblr.com/))

-

Twenty years.

Twenty years together in the happiest relationship Tooru could have ever imagined. And only two weeks for it to be torn completely asunder.

It was all because of their age difference. Tooru knew that this whole thing started because Sadayuki was having some sort of mid-life crisis. The man had always had reservations about his feelings for Tooru. Even after Tooru had gone off to college, it had taken several persistent years just to convince Sadayuki to go out on a date with him. Tooru was, after all, once a student under Sadayuki’s coaching, so it was understandable that their gap in years might eventually become an issue.

Tooru just never thought it would be this _bad_.

Only recently had the age gap become such an unbearable thorn in the side of their relationship. Tooru had no idea what had caused it. Was it someone whispering about them at the school again? Sadayuki deliberately not taking his medication? He wondered, and he worried. Tooru’s beloved partner had never acted so vehemently towards him before, even a year ago when they started having their first ‘real’ fights. Only recently had Sadayuki started talking – yelling – like he was right now.

“I can’t do this anymore!”

“Do _what_?”

“ _This_!”

Tooru cringed, his outstretched hand falling uselessly down to his side as though Sadayuki had physically knocked it down. They were standing apart from one another, on opposite sides of their living room. Tooru tried to reason with him again for what felt like the thousandth time.

“Sadayuki, please; if you would just _listen_ to what I’ve been trying to say—”

“No, Tooru, I can’t,” he stated flatly. His voice sounded frosty, like the cryptic chill of boots crunching on frozen snow. “It’s a moot point anyway. What part of that is so hard for you to understand?”

Tooru felt himself flinch against those words, felt his chin lift and his teeth clamp together in an attempt to fight back the tears that were welling up in his eyes. “Are you giving up then? On _us_?” he asked, quietly indignant. Tooru was stunned all the way down to his bones. He could hardly believe this was happening over something so stupid.

Sadayuki’s eyes softened, and for a moment he no longer seemed angry, just scared and a little sad. He almost looked his age, for once – copper-blond hair winged with gray across the sides, still cropped short like it always had been. His warm gray eyes were weary. “No, not exactly. Only on me. I’m not stupid, I know how this argument is entirely my fault—”

“Yeah, but you still don’t _get_ it.” A breathless laugh escaped Tooru’s lips. He felt like he was losing. He _hated_ losing. “You don’t get that _I don’t care_ how old you are. I never have, Sada. Please, just – just sit down with me. We’ll talk this through, okay? Whatever it is, I know we can overcome it. _Together_.”

“Sure,” Sadayuki spat, “It must be so easy for someone like you to say that.” The tender look from before had evaporated, leaving only the harsh lines of jealousy in the wake of his lover's words. “Since you’ve still got three quarters of your life left to figure it out.”

Was that really it? Sadayuki was _jealous_ of Tooru? Because he was a mere fourteen years younger?

“Are you being serious with me right now?” Tooru’s voice quivered when he spoke. He couldn’t tell if he sounded more confused, hurt, or angry. “Are you honestly telling me that you can’t be with me anymore just because I’m _younger_ than you? Now, after twenty years of already being together?” Tooru couldn’t fathom something so incredulous.

Sadayuki actually rolled his eyes. “Of course not. I already told you, it’s far more complicated than that.”

“What then? Explain it to me.” Tooru gestured to the couch next to him. “We have time.” His voice was sure. Tooru really thought he had him at this point.

But his lover – Sada-kun, his fiancé, his _everything_ – shook his head in defiance. “I…can’t. It’s too much. I’m sorry Tooru.” Then he turned to leave, his hand on the door and tears finally brimming across the waterline of his lost-looking eyes. “Truly, I am. I really do love you.”

Tooru felt like yanking his recently short-cut hair right out of his head. This was more frustrating than doing their taxes, more infuriating than discussing politics. “I love you too!” he pleaded, voice rising with each desperate word falling from his lips. “I don’t see how you– how feeling like I’m too young for you or too good for you is so final here? Relationships aren’t a one way street! It’s still like you’re not even _listening_ to me, I–” Tooru’s momentum was stolen by the deep breath he was forced to take, but he continued. “ _I love you_ , Mizoguchi Sadayuki.” He finally took several tentative steps towards the man lingering in the doorway.

Because he still hadn’t left yet. That was a good sign; if Tooru could keep him here long enough…

Tooru kept talking, just as desperate, just as careful. “I love you more than anything you could possibly ever convince yourself of, Sada. And… I know that it’s complicated, that _you’re_ complicated. But I love that about you, too. So please… _Please_. Don’t go. Just stay, and together we can—”

Sadayuki sighed. He sounded as tired as Tooru felt trying to convince him not to leave. “Goodbye, Tooru. I wish you a happy rest of your life. Enjoy it. If for nothing else, enjoy it for me.”

“What…?” Tooru whispered weakly.

By the time Tooru recovered from hearing the door slam and echo through the rooms of their apartment, it was too late. He ran outside, throwing the door open again, and yelled from the balcony for Sadayuki to come back home without a care in the world who heard him save for the one that mattered.

All he received were a few curious stares from the street below. No running footsteps to follow, no heartfelt reunion. Nothing.

Sadayuki was nowhere to be seen.

-

Tooru couldn’t sleep for three nights straight. He even called Iwa-chan a couple of times to talk to someone about his horrible break up, mostly because he feared that much for his own health. He’d never had to let go of someone so close to him. He honestly had no idea how to go about it. Plus, he didn’t want to.

Had he been a fraction less devastated, he might have considered Iwaizumi’s feelings on the matter a bit more, but two days turned into three, and three dragged into four with only a few exhausted naps taken in between. And still no sign of Sadayuki’s return.

It felt like what had already emotionally killed Tooru was making a valiant attempt to physically finish the job.

“And obviously I’ve tried calling him _a million_ times already,” Tooru was saying to Iwa-chan over the phone, “but it always goes straight to voicemail, like his cellular is off. I don’t know what else to do!”

Iwa-chan hummed thoughtfully before he made a suggestion. _“He did break up with_ you _, remember? Maybe he just really doesn’t want to talk for a while.”_

“That’s ridiculous! We’ve been together for over twenty years, why would he—?”

_“Nothing’s impossible. Give it some time; I’m sure he’ll come around.”_

“Oh, hold on a second Iwa-chan, there’s another call coming through.”

Iwa-chan sighed on the other end of the line, his voice crackling a little bit from static. _“We’re both almost forty-years-old, Shittykawa. Isn’t it about time you finally dropped the -chan?”_

“SSShhh, no. And please stay on the line, I might need your help if this is him.”

Tooru didn’t wait around to hear the second sigh Iwaizumi heaved into the receiver. He switched the line over and answered the call. “Sadayuki?”

_“Tooru…”_

Tooru’s eyes nearly bugged right out of his head. It _was_ him.

“Oh my god, Sada-kun, I’ve been so worried! Where are you? Are you okay? I know you don’t have half as many friends as I do, but I still hoped somebody would be kind enough to take you in on such short notice, and that’s not to say you couldn’t have just come back home either, if you’d wanted to, you still can you know—” Words spilled from his lips like a waterfall, and Sadayuki was quiet on the other end of the line, listening until Tooru was finished. “Well…?” Tooru asked once the word waterfall had drizzled down to a trickle. “Aren’t you going to say something? …Anything?”

_“I…no. Not really. I just wanted to hear your voice.”_

That line went dead, almost immediately. Tooru pulled his cell phone down away from his ear, hardly able to believe Sadayuki had just been there and then was gone again so soon. He tapped a couple of buttons just to make sure he hadn’t imagined the disconnection, but the LED screen showed him still on a call with Iwa-chan’s number and no one else.  

 _“Oikawa? Oikawa, are you there?”_ he heard a tiny, higher version of Iwa-chan’s gruff voice saying. Tooru numbly tapped the button that turned on the speakerphone. He suddenly didn’t think he had the strength to lift it back up to his ear.

“Yeah…yeah, I’m still here.”

_“Was it him?”_

Tooru blinked. “Yeah. It was.”

_“Did he say if he was ready to talk?”_

“…No. He didn’t.”

-

Three more days went by.

Sadayuki did not call back again.

Tooru continued to try to contact him, but to no avail. The man was utterly unreachable.

So Tooru began to resume the life of a single man, one newly acquainted with his forties. He thought it would be different than his younger days, like maybe no one would look twice at him anymore now that he was ‘old.’ But instead he found that both women and men still showed ample interest in him, regardless of _their_ age. High school girls still wanted his autograph because their mothers spoke so fondly of him. Said mothers still tried to surreptitiously slip him their numbers. Acquaintances from work who never said more than a simple greeting were suddenly asking him out to lunch or coffee.

It was like waking up to a living hell for Tooru. He gave them all his brightest plastic smiles.

He hated it.

-

Where could Sadayuki _be_?

Tooru eventually tried calling every single hotel in the immediate area, but he had about as much luck as he’d had with calling Sadayuki’s phone directly. He even asked for Sadayuki’s father’s name at the hotels, or his own name, just to make sure the other man wasn’t using an alias. Nothing. Sure, it was a bit like stalker behavior, but Tooru wasn’t trying to stalk him – not _really_.

He was simply worried, that was all.

Worried because he knew that Sadayuki had gone through some rough patches in his life, knew that the person he loved more than anything had an extremely hard time loving himself sometimes.

In fact, Tooru was only just starting to feel the inklings of fear – real fear, fearing for the worst – when there came a loud knock at his front door.

Tooru hopped up from lounging on the couch and opened the door with hope dancing leaps and bounds inside his chest.

And he felt that hope grow still just as quickly when saw not Sadayuki but Iwa-chan standing there in his doorway. The other man was breathing hard, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead like he’d been running. “Oikawa, I’m glad you’re here. Have you watched the news today?” he asked all in a rush.

“N-no,” Tooru said, shaking his head. Why was Iwa-chan in such a hurry? Why was he _here_?

“Good,” his friend went on. “Don’t watch it.”

“Why? Is something wrong, Iwa-chan?”

Tooru’s face was growing paler by the minute. He could _feel_ the blood draining. His worst fear was back in full force, clawing at Tooru’s insides, making his heart leap wildly up into his throat.

Iwa-chan answered though, thank goodness. “Come on, let’s go sit down inside. I don’t want you to be standing when I have to tell you.” Iwa-chan started to enter his home, but Tooru stopped him with a firm arm blocking the doorway.

“When you have to tell me _what_?” Tooru demanded. His eyes had grown wide and his brows hurt because of how closely knitted together they were. “I want to know right now, Iwa. What’s wrong?”

Iwa-chan shook his head firmly. “Go back inside. I’m not telling you anything until you’re sitting down.”

Tooru’s voice became small, like a child’s, and he suddenly sounded every bit as sad as he had nearly a week ago, the night Sadayuki had stormed out of his life. “Iwa-chan, please… Just tell me?”

Iwaizumi sighed heavily. He’d been doing that a lot lately. Tooru could feel his other hand shaking at his side as he slowly started to piece together the strangeness of their conversation and the meaning behind Iwaizumi’s words. “Wait…” Tooru murmured, suddenly breathless. “This isn’t _about_ Sadayuki, is it?”

Tooru watched Iwa-chan slowly lift his eyes so theirs could meet, and he saw in those steely depths more sorrow than Tooru had ever seen in them before – even more than when they lost to Shiratorizawa that final time in high school, even more than when Tooru was unable to return his friend’s romantic feelings when Iwa-chan had confessed to him in college. He looked like the kind of hurt that left scars which never healed, hurt that never went away no matter how much time passed.

On some level, Tooru realized Iwaizumi’s sadness was for him.

“Tooru, I’m so, _so_ sorry…” Iwa-chan whispered.

Tooru vaguely, stupidly wondered why Iwa-chan was apologizing until he felt his own hand automatically lift towards his cheek to wipe away tears he hadn’t realized were already falling. “Iwa-chan,” he pleaded, voice already wavering with too much emotion, “Please… _Please_ tell me he’s al—”

“He’s gone, Tooru.”

The interruption was a gunshot straight through Tooru’s heart. He felt it aching, breaking, bleeding all the same.

“He’s... I’m sorry…” Iwa-chan continued, still having trouble finding his words. “It was… The police said he—”

“S-sto-p,” Tooru practically choked. He leaned his full weight against the doorframe because his knees felt weak, ready to buckle at any moment. “P-please stop. I don’t want to hear anymore.”

Because it was obvious; he didn't need to hear the details.

Iwa-chan stepped forward and pulled Tooru into a close embrace, wrapped up his friend’s sobbing with strong, reassuring arms.

Tooru wasn’t sure how long he sobbed. He didn’t feel reassured, in spite of Iwa-chan’s solid presence; he wasn’t sure he could feel anything. Not now, or ever again.

-

Sadayuki Mizoguchi’s memorial was held the following evening, at the Aoba Johsai gymnasium, of course.

He had, after all, still worked there – up until yesterday when the incident had occurred.

Tooru stood by Sadayuki’s photo – a handsome headshot taken during his early days of coaching at Aoba Johsai. He had liked that photo; it was one of the only times Tooru had ever heard him say “Hey, they actually got a good one this year!”

Tooru was miserable beyond what he previously thought possible. His eyes were itchy, puffy and red and his face was drawn taught with yet unshed sadness, though no more tears fell. He had cried as much as he could cry last night with Iwaizumi still at his home. His friend had taken special care in holding him, helping him through this, keeping him grounded so that he didn’t do something equally as stupid as Sadayuki had in his emotional grief.

 _Sadayuki should have had someone like Iwa-chan,_ Tooru thought bitterly. _For so long I thought I was that someone…_

Every random person that walked past Tooru gave him the same sorry face. Sometimes they even murmured, “So sorry for your loss,” or “I’m sorry this happened.” He hardly acknowledged any of it. Empty words, that’s all they were; empty words for an empty loss to them. Aside from Sadayuki’s close family – his poor aging mother, crying softly somewhere off to the side, and Sadayuki’s brother, stone-faced and glassy-eyed as he did his best to comfort her – and some former members of the Aoba Johsai Volleyball Club, everyone else in attendance only knew Sadayuki peripherally. They cared just enough to come.

 _It’s not enough for him, though. Not anymore._ Not anything like how Tooru cared.

Mattsun hugged Tooru especially tightly when he arrived, with fresh tears clinging to his dark lashes. Makki was only a bit better off, more concerned with consoling his partner than his own sorrow, although his eyes were rimmed in red as well. Makki also hugged Tooru, for which he was grateful.

Tooru thought suits looked strange on the two of them, even though he knew that both of them had gone on to work in the corporate world. Their silence was strange. For once, neither of them made any bad jokes to lighten the mood like they normally would have. Nothing they could have said would have made Tooru feel any better anyway. They all knew it, too.

Kunimi and Kindaichi were in attendance as well. They stood close to the other former volleyball players, exchanging quiet words with their old teammates. Kindaichi hadn't _stopped_ crying, and although Kunimi appeared outwardly indifferent, Tooru could tell he was just as upset as his other friends.

It meant a lot to Tooru. He hadn't expected any of them to be there, but the entire cast of his high school lineup had come out to pay their respects and give him their support.

Iwa-chan stood next to Tooru the entire evening, solid as ever. Tooru could feel the other’s hand press lightly against his back every so often, rubbing comforting circles in a steady motion with his palm. It made Tooru’s heart swell in a way he didn’t want to feel at the moment. It should have felt good, but it didn’t. It made him feel worse. He longed for the numbness from yesterday—

Because everything _hurt_.

And then, as if only to make matters worse than the worst, Irihata-san arrived.

Tooru had been talking about something irrelevant with one of Sadayuki’s distant cousins when the old man entered the gym. Iwa-chan’s hand suddenly stilled and then glided onto Tooru’s shoulder where he gave it a firm squeeze, alerting him to avert his attention.

Tooru felt his back stiffen as he locked eyes with their former head coach slowly hobbling towards them.

They stared at one another for a long time. Irihata-san’s hair was completely white now, combed back against his head, exposing eyes that were still just as hard as Tooru remembered them. They were a dark kind of hard tonight – no, _harsh_ was the word. They were casting harsh judgment down onto Tooru.

Irihata-san didn’t need to say a single word for Tooru to get the message loud and clear.

 _This is all your fault_.

If looks could kill, Tooru would be joining Sadayuki sooner than he thought. Irihata-san hated him.

But Tooru understood why. He agreed, even.

“I’m sor—” Tooru started to say, but Irihata-san held up a wrinkled, freckled hand to silence him. Several people who had been quietly talking around them also grew quiet. They at least had the decency to turn their heads and pretend like they weren’t listening in.

“Save it,” Irihata-san grumbled. “What’s done is done. We can all move forward now.”

 _Move forward…?_ The phrase sounded so foreign to Tooru. How could he ever move forward from this? How was such a thing even remotely possible?

The truth was that it probably _wasn’t_ possible, not entirely. Much like the look behind Iwa-chan’s eyes yesterday when he’d brought the news to Tooru, this was that same kind of pain that never really healed. Not with time, not with new love. He entertained the idea that not even death could heal loss like this.

His friends would never let him find out, though.

Irihata-san said his respects and then joined Sadayuki’s mother, giving her comforting words and telling fond anecdotes of his time spent coaching together with Sadayuki. Tooru, like the other guests, tried to act like he wasn’t listening. But he loved remembering how happy Mizoguchi had been when Irihata-san recommended him for the head coach position after his own retirement. He loved hearing about parties, friendship, former students who went on to do something great with their lives, the joys of teaching. Tooru had loved all of that about him.

And however heavy Tooru’s heart might be, he was glad for the distraction Irihata-san provided to Sadayuki’s family. His lover’s mother had never liked Tooru very much because of their relationship either. She called him a ‘vixen’ once, behind his back; Sadayuki had laughed so hard tears rolled down his cheeks when he retold the entire conversation to Tooru verbatim. Tooru had laughed so hard he couldn’t breathe…

Fresh tears welled up in his eyes, tears he thought he didn’t have the capability to shed anymore. His chest was aching like it was collapsing in on itself, and no amount of deep breathing or mental distraction seemed to make the sudden pain go away.

He started to leave. Iwa-chan grabbed his hand this time.

“Hey,” he said, softly. For Iwa-chan, that was _very_ soft. Normally it would have made a smile tug at Tooru’s mouth. Today it did not. “You need anything?”

Tooru blinked. Tears blurred everything and everyone around him. He shook his head no. He didn’t need anything.

Iwa-chan nodded reluctantly and released Tooru’s hand from his grip. “All right... I’m here for you though, if you decide that you do. Okay?”

Tooru nodded distantly.

He made his way outside to be alone for a while.

-

Later that night Tooru was finally able to fall asleep.

It was only for several hours, but those hours were what he direly needed, especially after the funeral.

He dreamt a lot. Most of the dreams were not dreams at all, but rather memories manifested. For the longest time Tooru saw himself from his mind’s eye, chasing down the sound of shared laughter; stealing quick, secret kisses behind Sendai City Gymnasium bleachers; whispering promises of forever together. Hospital visits ending with a reassuring embrace. Local vacations where their palms would press together and fingers would interlace. Countless precious moments cascaded through his mind, just as real as the times he lived them.

But his nostalgia slowly started to blend with his grief. His dreams began digging a little deeper into his subconscious, turning the lock on the innermost desires of Tooru’s heart. He dreamt of wedding bells; of mutual vows and snow white suits; a perfect, sunny day spent surrounded only by the people who loved them the most, who loved them being together…and a searing kiss he could never forget, not in a thousand lifetimes or more. He dreamt of pining, of discovery, of eternal connection and forgiveness.

Love without bounds, pure and uninhibited by their generational divide, untouched by emotional distress. A second chance.

Tooru lost himself in those dreams, the ones he could no longer differentiate from the echoes of the past.

 _Let me stay here_ , he thought, holding Sadayuki’s smiling face in his own trembling hands. Tooru’s mirroring smile wavered, skewed by the reluctant happiness he was feeling. It was causing him a meltdown on the outer edges of his conscience. _Please just let me stay with him like this_.

There was something invisible and oppressive tearing him away from the dream of the life he could have had, though.

Reality – the sinking realization that these were moments Tooru would never get to have, and would never have again.

Tooru was not surprised when he suddenly awoke in a sea of tangled blankets, feeling exhausted and screaming Sadayuki’s name hoarsely into the darkened bedroom like saying it could still somehow bring him back.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my good friend [princessbelle212](http://archiveofourown.org/users/princessbelle212/pseuds/princessbelle212), who graciously beta'd this fic for me. 
> 
> And to [Kami](https://twitter.com/kittlekrattle), whose tweets inspired me to finally feel brave enough to share it.
> 
> Comments are my lifeblood. Thank you for reading.


End file.
